


A Compromise with Honor

by devilinthedetails



Category: PIERCE Tamora - Works, Tortall - Tamora Pierce
Genre: Carthak, Compromise, Cultural Differences, F/M, Honor, Humility, Intercultural Marriage, Interracial Marriage, Marital Disagreement, Marriage Struggles, Passion, Pride, Reconciliation, References to Domestic Violence, References to violence against women, culture clash, new marriage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-28
Updated: 2018-07-28
Packaged: 2019-06-17 19:09:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15468066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/devilinthedetails/pseuds/devilinthedetails
Summary: Early in their marriage, Kalasin and Kaddar compromise about her wearing a veil when riding.





	A Compromise with Honor

**Author's Note:**

> Trigger warnings for references to violence against women and domestic violence in general.

A Compromise with Honor

“It’s a humiliating insult to my honor when you choose to ride unveiled.” Kaddar waited just long enough for the door to their private parlor to slam shut before he snapped at her like a provoked cobra. 

“Your lips are moving and all I hear are your mother’s words.” Kalasin didn’t have to strain her imagination to picture the emperor’s mother Fazia buzzing in his ear like a wasp—nagging her son as she did Kalasin—about Kalasin’s staunch refusal to don a veil when she went out riding. She could hear the warnings about the immodesty of her appearance and the damage sunburn could inflict on her pale skin that she had suffered through with varying degrees of grace since her arrival in Carthak echoing in her head. To Kaddar, who held his mother’s advice in high esteem as the counsel that had allowed him to survive long enough to attain the throne and secure his position upon it, Kalasin was confident that Fazia’s admonishments would cut all the deeper. “Honoring your mother is all very well, Kaddar, but it wouldn’t kill you to have a thought of your own every once in awhile.” 

“My thought is the same as my mother’s.” Kaddar’s jaw had clenched. Kalasin could see that in the taut muscles of his neck and hear it in the bite of his tongue. “You shame yourself and me when you ride without a veil. A married woman ought never to ride unveiled because it’s an impropriety that disgraces herself and her husband.” 

His stiff formality made Kalasin bristle as she retorted, “My thought, which is entirely my own and not given to me from someone else, is it’s a humiliating insult to my face when you, your mother, or any of your more sanctimonious subjects insist that I should veil myself. I don’t attempt to dictate what they should wear, and they ought to extend me the same courtesy.” 

Her face flushed from the Carthaki sun and the heat of an argument that had waged at irregular intervals between her and Kaddar in the months since their marriage began at first smoothly when they saw what was most attractive in each other and then more rockily as their flaws—so similar that like identical puzzle pieces they couldn’t fit together—became glaringly obvious. Her beauty—and Kalasin knew she was beautiful since people had praised her as such from the moment she was born—hadn’t been made by the Goddess to hide behind her husband or any other scandalized Carthaki’s shame. 

“Your obstinance tempts me to forbid you from riding unveiled.” Kaddar’s eyes were hard as onyx and his lips thinner than a razor in a sure sign that he was about to make what he perceived as an implacable proclamation. 

“You’ve no authority to forbid me anything.” Kalasin was unflinching in her adamance that he couldn’t control her though she knew that Carthaki law rendered every man an emperor with absolute authority over the wife, the children, and the slaves that comprised his family. Regardless of what Carthaki law required, she wouldn’t submit to her husband’s whims and demands. She was headstrong enough to have a mind of his own, and it was he who would have to learn to live with that. She was subject to herself first and foremost, a sovereign woman before she was an empress. 

“You’re my wife, Kalasin.” Kaddar’s arms folded across his chest in a blatant signal of his unwillingness to surrender any ground to her. “Of all people, you shouldn’t defy me but be loyal in every circumstance.” 

“Then don’t try to forbid me from riding if you value my loyalty.” Wild with a fury about being reduced to the role of unquestioningly compliant and faithful wife that tinged her vision scarlet, Kalasin swung her palm toward Kaddar’s cheeks. The imperious Countess of King’s Reach had always maintained that it was a wife’s prerogative to slap a husband who offended her and no gentleman would be so ungallant as to return the blow. 

Quicker than Kalasin could blink, Kaddar had seized her slender wrist between a firm but not painful fist. As she struggled against him, he hissed at her, “You shouldn’t hit me. The law allows me to strike you.” 

Kalasin froze, the blood cold in her veins. The reminder that Carthak had no Goddess courts to bring a husband who hurt his wife to justice—a fact she was negotiating tirelessly with noble and religious personages to change—chilled her to the bone. Her words ice, she emphasized that she wasn’t defenseless if he proved a tyrant as his uncle had. “My parents would attack Carthak if you dared to hit me. Hit me and start a war if you like.” 

“I wasn’t threatening to hit you.” Kaddar, Kalasin was pleased to note, sounded breathless from the exertion of restraining her. “I’d never hit a woman—least of all my wife—and I’d have the hand and head of any man who lifted his against you. I merely point out that if I never hit you no matter how you try my temper, in fairness, you should never hit me.” 

Her pulse pounding against her eardrums until she was on the cusp of a throbbing headache, Kalasin stuck her nose in the air with a haughtiness she was beginning to have to feign. “The Countess of King’s Reach instructed me that it’s a wife’s prerogative to slap a husband who has insulted her dignity.” 

“I thought you were of the opinion that we should be equals.” Kaddar arched an eyebrow at her. “Are you now going to talk out of both ends of your mouth and insist on the privilege of striking me at your pleasure?” 

“No.” Kalasin’s stubborn chin wavered slightly. “I’m insisting that because we’re equals you shouldn’t attempt to force me to wear a veil or seek to forbid me from riding in any attire I choose.” 

“I propose a compromise.” Kaddar rubbed her thumb with his own, his expression thoughtful. “You won’t try to hit me ever again, and I’ll agree to never force you to wear a veil or forbid you from riding without one. Does that seem fair to you?” 

“It seems you’re giving up more than I am.” Kalasin was suspicious of this swift capitulation to her wishes from her cunning, strong-willed husband. “I wonder what plots you have up your silk sleeve.” 

“Nothing dastardly. I only plan to charm and cajole you to wear your veil when you go riding as I haven’t surrendered my right to do that.” Kaddar chuckled as he released her wrist and guided her fingers to his lips when she nodded her acceptance of his terms. “Let’s seal the peace with a kiss, my dear.” 

“We already have, darling.” Kalasin was dry as the desert air in Thak City. 

“Not where I have in mind.” Kaddar lowered his mouth to hers, brushing against skin cracked from the burning attentions of the Carthaki sun. His kiss started gentle but soon swelled to a fever pitch that stirred a passion for her husband deep inside Kalasin where only he could reach.


End file.
